


like or like-like

by SNES



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Miscommunication, Picnics, Rivalry, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22725787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SNES/pseuds/SNES
Summary: On the last year of their annual class picnic, one sunny March afternoon, Jaemin falls in love.Literally.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 173





	like or like-like

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ninthdreamie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninthdreamie/gifts).



As early as 7th grade, Na Jaemin's been trying to persuade his childhood best friend (or, more commonly known as their classroom representative) Lee Donghyuck to cancel their annual class picnic, for everyone's sake. Every damn year since then, Jaemin swears he'll try to talk Donghyuck out of it, and every year-- if it's not just God flat-out hating his guts-- there's a reason he fails.

It's been countless months in the long run, and now they're all finally in 12th grade, ready to walk the carpet with their diplomas in hand, toss their Oxford caps over the air and smoothsail their way into the hellish depths of college, except Jaemin thought that by this point he'd be done with it all-- that one weekend in early March he has to spend with limp, soggy club sandwiches, water balloon tossing, three-legged racing and sitting through a game of musical chairs while that weird band kid at the last row plays the banjo-- although by that exact point he'd also realized it was just unfortunately part of the Donghyuck _starter pack,_ this whole thing, and that as long as he was alive he was just setting himself up for more years of picnic-related disasters.

Along the back corner of their classroom at 8 a.m. on a Thursday morning, the other students (like, 2 of them, at most) endlessly pester Jaemin, to the point of making him want to roll down on the floor and sink under it like it was quicksand. "You said there was something you could do," Renjun rolls his eyes at him, like it was anywhere near refreshing to have to deal with the disappointment of Jaemin failing to do his role, again-- like he has for the past 6 years.

"He said he was bringing along his boyfriend this year, Injun." Jaemin begins, ready to excuse himself. "I mean-- I'm obviously sick of this shit turning into a disaster every year, but I'm not heartless. He looked so happy--"

"Oh, please, Nana." Yangyang intervenes, a finger snarkily raised up as if to tell Jaemin to just shut the fuck up. "Hyuck says _jump_ and you say _how high_. We get it."

"Well, he's my friend. You all are, too, and I can't just--" He pauses. "I can't just tell him to cancel the picnic this Saturday. He probably plans this shit out two years earlier than intended. It's not fair. To Hyuck, most of all. You know?" Frankly, Jaemin thinks what's not fair is that he was only Top 2 in their class this year, completely overthrown-- yet again-- by that _douchebag know-it-all ass driver dildo who might actually be Satan himself_ Lee Jeno, and no one's letting him make a massive fuss over it, so maybe he shouldn't give so much of a shit about hurting anyone's feelings anymore.

"So maybe you shouldn't have told us that you could." Renjun bitches, his back thudding against his seat as he shuffles. "Hyuck's a brat. He's as evil as a three-dollar handjob from a street hippie. He's going to make this whole big event happen just so he could cry about no one wanting to be there."

"Listen," Jaemin opens his mouth to argue, but his jaw stays agape when he realizes Renjun was right.

"Like he does every single year." Yangyang adds, appalled. He turns to look pointedly at Jaemin, who deviates and says:

"Don't look at me like I'm loving this."

"You're not _exactly_ hating it." Yangyang interjects. "The only reason you hate the picnic so much is because you keep losing all those dumb games to--"

"Don't mention that name," he stammers, nervous, his shoulders stiffening primitively. He just _can't_ hear it, lest he, in lack of a fitting term, dies. Everyone in the room knew that name alone made him seethe.

"Fuck, man." Yangyang backs away, defenseless. "I didn't even say it yet."

"Close call, Yang." Renjun reaches over and jokingly pats him on the shoulder. "You know Jaemin pops a boner anytime someone mentions Jeno's name."

"Shit. Right." He nods along. "It's just the way of life. As mere humans, we can't alter the grand scheme of Jaemin's dick, the sexual tension he obviously has with Jeno, and the infinite cosmos."

 _"Jesus_. Fun's over, guys." Jaemin says. "Shut the fuck up before he hears and haunts me forever."

"Maybe he _should_ hear," Renjun argues fitfully. "Maybe then y'all would finally bone?"

"Ugh," Jaemin groans and softens against his seat in surrender.

He had the vengeful audacity to be honest, just this one time, just so he could say he did get boners for Jeno, if, by _boners_ he'd meant it was specifically the mighty, unnerving urge to lure him into the back of a shady van, all windows bolted tight shut, and then to let the van plummet straight down the ocean and hit rock bottom just so he wouldn't have to see that fucking face again. He can dream, but Jeno's so perfect even the fish underwater could melt so far under his gaze they'd probably team up to rescue him.

For starters: Lee Jeno, in all his glory, was criminally smart and athletic at the same time. He's one of the few people in the whole universe who actually manage to healthily jog both being in Honors Calculus and playing starter for their school's Basketball team like it's just a polished part of their programming, and on top of everything it was absolutely insulting that he was, by all means, attractive, and that if Jaemin wasn't so busy acting like he was utterly disgusted by his perfect looks, his jet black hair, his chronic pout and all two buttons of his uniform shirt he always leaves undone, he would've maybe swooned, fell into his arms as he works his way through the beginnings of a persistent boner-- and _no,_ he didn't mean it figuratively this time, although he wishes he could give in less to the thought of having Jeno win him over. 

Unfortunately, this isn't the first time he has.

Once was in their 9th grade Spelling Bee, when they were practically neck-to-neck and Jaemin actually had a chance of winning, until Jeno successfully spelled out the word _zinciferous_ in the tie-breaker round and copped himself a gold medal thirty seconds later. Jaemin was pissed-- but then he wasn't angry at Jeno. In fact, he was frazzled by his amusement. At that point in his life it was far too early for him to effectively recognize his grimy, unreasonable attraction to Jeno as anything other than a product of his rage and disgust, but years went by until he realized that it just _wasn't_ the case.

Realization shot him straight at his head some time two months ago, at a house party that Renjun so courteously passed off to Jaemin's parents as nothing more than an innocent _study night,_ but there was alcohol and loud trap music and condoms laid over the door of every room and everything else that wasn't supposed to be there.

By 9 p.m. Jaemin was boozed out of consciousness, sprawled over Renjun's sofa while he alternates between whisking up the courage to party hard like the rest of the group and deciding it's better to pass out on the couch and call it a night. It wouldn't matter, because either way he'd be wasted, and no one would care. And he already had way too much to drink, which was why it hadn't occured to him that he should be offended when Jeno approached him under the orange lamp light just to say his get-up made him look like a broken, cheap pink lawn flamingo stuck between an untrimmed bush. _Ugly,_ in short, but his inebriation took it as a compliment. 

It was alcohol, gargled doubt when Jaemin had curiously asked, _"Is that your way of saying you want me out of my clothes?"_ And it was something that sounded a lot like braveness, like certainty when Jeno replied, all hints of modesty flung out the window, _"I know you want me out of mine."_

Jaemin didn't bet on having his cherry popped that night-- of all other nights-- let alone by Lee Jeno himself, but because the people in heaven who watch the events of his life like it's a hit sitcom never lets things go his way, it just had to happen. Despite his obvious inexperience, he knew he'd never have the audacity to say that it wasn't (embarrassingly) the best sex he's ever had in his whole life.

Jeno was calm and meticulous, and he knew where to bite and where to press and when to start and when to stop-- like he had this whole thing planned as much as he says he had. Jaemin couldn't forget it if he tried, the way Jeno looked at him with eyes that studied his every reaction, even as he unceremoniously slipped a finger into Jaemin and started thrusting it up his guts like he was mashing the button of a video game controller, or even when Jaemin had finally arched up to scream Jeno's name at the pleasure of having Jeno bottom out inside of him. It felt too short to be a dream, and way too long to be true, but it was far too mindblowing and satisfying that when Jeno knelt up over Jaemin to spill his cum all over his face, Jaemin left his mouth wide open and didn't even _think_ about spitting.

In the morning, Jaemin woke up with a particular brand of stale beer-cum shit-faced morning breath, and to Jeno's number written smudgily over his wrist with a blue pen. He saved it on his contacts, but he never called-- out of fear or out of rage, he isn't really keen on figuring out. He remembered promising to himself that he'd recount all the events of that night as something to be forgotten, even if he'd lose something special in the process. After all, he doubts Jeno even cares if not for the fact that he obviously just wants to make Jaemin suffer for it. God forbid he'd ever admit Jeno had succeeded, in the worst way possible.

And he knew it was something about the _wrongness_ of having Jeno's hands all over him, and how he hopes that was all it was; in the rare, pure moments that he regards his Jeno-related insanity, he realizes there's the slightest sliver of chance that it isn't. For one, they never kissed-- that night. And Jaemin thinks he must really be insane when, even two months later, he starts to wish they had.

And then he starts to think about all the things they would have done, if they had. A kiss wasn't a big revelation, but it was something that could say enough, that could say exactly what Jaemin wanted to hear-- and it was _I want this to be something else-- not hate sex, not a pity fuck. I want this to be exactly what it is when we both wake up in the morning. I want this to be love._

 _I want you_. 

"Hey, man." A voice quakes him, attempts to throw him off his daze. _"Snap out of it!"_

Jaemin does, and what fleets him back is the sight of Renjun and Yangyang looming over his table with worried little faces.

"Did Jaemin really just zone out for a full minute?" Yangyang says, mortified.

"I think it's called being in subspace, Yang." Renjun says. "Or it's just Jeno--"

"No. It's not _Jeno."_ Jaemin huffs, hopeless. "Give me a break!" He can't deal with this any longer-- the pointed implications, the knowing stares. Renjun and Yangyang might know more about his whole internal Jeno fiasco than he thinks they are, and it's driving him crazy that he can't just have them generalize the whole problem for him. It's practically written in their college resume-- over the section where they talk about their aspirations-- to meddle with every aspect of Jaemin's life. They're lovable, for all admitting it is worth, but Jaemin can't have them interfering with _this_ , of all things. They can't know how much the thought of this is killing him. 

_Fuck it,_ he thinks. He should go find a decent outfit, because Saturday, and the courage it'll have to take him to face the ever-growing disaster that awaits wasn't as far as he ought it to be anymore.

_***_

The afternoon commute to the park was horrendous, as Jaemin had expected.

He was supposed to hitch a ride with Yangyang in his parents' SUV, like he has year after year, but he's spent the last two hours on his porch waiting on nothing, and he figured somewhere along the way that he had to take matters in his own hands.

He sits in fuming rage while the train quakes against the rails, begrudgingly hugging a glass punch bowl for the picnic between his arms throughout the journey. As soon as he gets off his stop, he spots Hyuck's boyfriend, Mark, who immediately recognizes him-- and almost goes in for a hug before he realizes Jaemin's on the verge of whacking the bowl over the first person he sees.

"It's so good that you're here--" Mark relievingly sighs. "I think I might get lost on the way to the park. I'm so bad with directions, dude."

Jaemin tiredly raises his brows. He knew better than to make innocent Mark the receiving end of his limitless anger. "Mark, it's literally right across the station." He blankly points out, to which Mark reacts humiliatedly.

"What? I mean. _Well."_ Mark reasons. "How was I supposed to know that?"

Jaemin only huffs in surrender, pivoting on his heel to lead the way while Mark follows. He's talking his head off about something Jaemin's too torn to even react to. A quick glance of his classmates cooped up together from a far side of the park reminds Jaemin it's not to late to back out at all, but he's too sweet, and too appreciative of Hyuck's efforts, to even think of not pushing through. One of the shittiest things about the picnic besides the food (which Hyuck's mom always orders from a 'cheap catering service' that's basically just their school's cafeteria staff), having to give up half of their weekend or even the prospect of having to keep up with Jeno was the forced camaraderie. A majority of their class probably wouldn't hesitate to rip some of their other classmates' throats out if the situation allowed it, which is why it's pitiful to have to deal with this.

As soon as they saunter past the park gate, Donghyuck sprints towards them in a fit of glee.

"Nana!" Donghyuck shouts amidst the distracted crowd, spreading his arms wide open, enough for Jaemin to squeeze in. He's as blinding as the afternoon sunlight that when Jaemin raises his hand to wave he almost holds it up his face to cover his eyes. He was never used to this, but Mark is, which is why Jaemin finds it weird that Donghyuck went to hug him first when his literal boyfriend was _very_ clearly there.

The whole interaction lasts a mere three seconds, only until Hyuck pulls back and says, "Quick, the game's about to start!"

"The what?" Jaemin asks dumbfoundedly.

"The three-legged race, dumbass! And _Churros!"_ In almost the exact moment he tells Jaemin this, he grabs Mark by his left arm and yanks him quickly over the center spot in line. Mark obligingly, sweetly follows suit, smiling as Donghyuck pulls him along. Neither of them are aware of the fact that they've just left Jaemin behind, but Jaemin wouldn't consider it even remotely shocking.

Until he realizes Hyuck has always been his partner for the three-legged race. And now he realizes he's fucked.

"Hey, wait. Hyuck--" he calls for them in alarm, but then they were already getting ready. Curse him for thinking he hasn't just been Hyuck's class picnic option for a whole six years. Now that Mark was here to basically unknowingly barricade Hyuck from his grasp, he knew shit was about to go down earlier than ever. Hyuck wasn't there to fend off the dangerous rate of Jeno's stingy advances and to make this whole thing bearable anymore. No one else was willing to cover for him because pretty much everyone else he knew in the park just wanted to go home.

Surprisingly enough, Renjun and Yangyang were there. Jaemin makes the mighty decision to approach them and see if either one of them wanted to partner up with him. He was confident it was possible, but there wasn't a lot to stake when Jaemin didn't really want to play-- he just wanted to make Hyuck think he was interested. Not that it matters now that Hyuck had his eyes all over his man, or that Jaemin really just wanted to make something out of wasting a whole Saturday afternoon on the promise of free food and Churros, or something.

He takes the risk and walks over to Yangyang and Renjun slowly, like he's tiptoeing over sacks of burning coal. It's not even three seconds in before Renjun notices him and instinctively shrinks over Yangyang's frame, posed in a hiding (or maybe that was an _I'm-so-ready-to-kick-you-in-the-face)_ stance.

"Renjun--" Jaemin says, stretching his hand across despite his nerves gripping him dead-on.

"I'm mad at you." Renjun says at the same time he slaps Jaemin's hands away. Jaemin lets his hand flap against his chest as he dramatically gasps, to which Renjun reacts rather disgustedly.

 _"Word."_ Yangyang croaks from below Renjun, raising a brow up as he stares at Jaemin while he ties the rope over his and Renjun's legs. "I should be at Volleyball practice."

"Is this still about the picnic?" Jaemin sneers. "If it's such a big deal maybe you shouldn't have come,"

"What? And miss out on free Churros?" Renjun gasps. "I've made, like, a zillion strategies last night. I don't need this as badly, but I'll carry Yangyang over the grass and fly on my own two legs if I have to."

"What the fuck," Yangyang laughs. "Okay. Do that."

Jaemin raises a brow to retort, because that was weird, questionable, and would technically count as cheating _._ "Oh, great, you guys." He shrugs it off, disinterested, considering he's got not a single person in the park to partner up with. "I'm fucked."

"No, you aren't," Renjun pouts, and it's genuine. "I'll save you the Churros wrapper, man. You can lick off the excess dip."

"The taste of victory," Yangyang adds.

Jaemin sighs. "It's not worth it. I'm not even playing."

"Yes, you _are."_

Jaemin hears someone mutter snarkily from a close distance, and it takes him a good second to pinpoint who exactly it was, and he curses, because _no, God, not that fucking voice--_

He gazes over, his eyes already narrowing into deadly slits at the sight of an unbuttoned red polo shirt and plaid shorts.

Jeno speaks, his whole face lighting up. "Hey, do you want to--"

 _"Fuck no,"_ Jaemin cringes, surveying the tangled loops of thin rope Jeno's holding up between his exposed arms. He turns to seek help from Yangyang and Renjun, but they've somehow already skidded away to the farthest side of the starting line. Like bastards.

Jeno smiles cheekily, as if to point something out. "Hyuck's with his boyfriend. Renjun's with Yang. I see you lost both of your potential partners?"

"It doesn't matter." He says, masking the obvious fact that he's fearing for his life. "I'm not playing."

"Feisty," Jeno kneels down when he speaks, soft and calm, but also like he eats illegal portions of arrogance for breakfast. It shows when he easily takes Jaemin off guard and tackles him by his thighs, practically manhandling him into submission. Jaemin's hands fly haphazardly against Jeno-- one on his shoulder and the other on his hair, just furious enough to pull.

"Oh, you're fucking kidding me," Jaemin shockingly bites back, nails dangerously sinking on the fabric concealing Jeno's pitiful shoulders. "Just do me the honor-- and fucking-- eat my shorts, okay, for fuck's sake."

"Later, babe," Jeno says, like he's honestly considering-- and Jaemin sputters at his own expense, blushes in shock. "When I'm not trying to help you win the god damn game for two bags of free Churros."

"Do you think you're doing me a favor?" He grits his teeth when Jeno sinks down to loop the rope over one of his scrawny legs. "Do you think I fucking _want_ Churros?"

"No," he says. "I just think maybe you need to scrape all the sand out of your ass and let loose. You're _lucky_ I'm here."

"Excuse me?" He scoffs. "If anything I'm the most unfortunate person in the world right now."

"It's adorable that your shriveled little brain actually believes that." Jaemin clicks his tongue at the pointed retort, balancing himself before his knees go weak. Jeno looks up at him, eyes purposely glazed and half-lidded. "Stay still and make this easier for me, yeah?"

An unnamed force keeps Jaemin frozen despite his brain wanting to act or do otherwise. He should be kicking Jeno, or jabbing his knee against his perfectly sculpted face. It's a personal battle he never thought he'd have to face on account of Jeno or his efforts. When the latter finally finishes tying and fastening their knees together in a tight loop, he stands up, and swoons as if he was admiring Jaemin's obedience.

"There we go." He turns his whole face to Jaemin, ruffles Jaemin's hair softly and opens his mouth wide just to say-- with the fucking audacity to be _seductive_ about it-- _"Good boy."_

 _Good boy._ Jaemin backtracks. _Good. Boy._

If Jeno meant to say that just to punch the air out of Jaemin's lungs, he'd done just that, and maybe a whole lot more.

It grabs Jaemin, yanks him over his collar and pitches him into a trance of hot red and frenzied orange, with no one to pull him out. His chest flutters and his knees go weak enough that he's afraid he'll melt against Jeno and beg him to make it all stop. He shouldn't be this weak. He shouldn't be this easy. He shouldn't want this. He shouldn't. _He shouldn't._ But he's almost sure his whole body will betray him the same way it did that night at Renjun's party-- except this time, it was much more terrifying. He was sober, and he knew exactly what he should be asking for, exactly what he's staking. His heart was on the line, too.

"Do you need to practice?" Jaemin doesn't hear Jeno say that. He doesn't hear anything at all. He's pretty sure he shook his head to whatever it was Jeno had to say, and from up this close he's not really sure he can _even_ think straight. His irrationality had him at a chokehold, and all he can focus on is Jeno, and the way he smells a lot like sweat and the donuts Jaemin really liked from the pastry shop across the park, and the way he said _good boy_ like it was a dirty little petname for when they were back between the sheets, clawing at each other's clothes in boyish desperation, hopeless for the contact, blood rising up to their faces at the hapless heat, the cheeky smirks and at the echoing thought of all of this being everything they never thought they'd want.

And fuck, Jaemin wants that.

He misses the sound of the horn that indicates the race has already started. He hasn't even considered if his odds would fare well against their other opponents when he had his _real_ opponent standing right beside him. When Jeno shouts-- "Jaemin, _fucking_ run!" -- it shocks him out of his daze, and he forgets what legs are and makes a frenzied run for it-- only for them to topple into a giant, messy pile of limbs and mud-caked flip-flops and a worn-out pair of Keds, his face falling straight against Jeno's chest, Jeno laughing like it's just jolly good fun while Jaemin practically, humiliatedly seethes his brains out of existence. 

The rest of their classmates race to the finish line and succeed within a 10-second interval. In those same 10 seconds, Jeno and Jaemin stay glued to each other's bodies. "We didn't win," Jaemin says, through gritted teeth. His face is still inches close to Jeno's, he's surprised he hasn't kissed him yet. "Fuck. We _didn't_ win."

"We didn't," Jeno smirks, sitting up. "I think I did, though." Jaemin doesn't know if he wishes he heard that right, but he's blushing beet red anyway.

Yangyang, who managed to finish the race in first place alongside Renjun, gleams snarkily, pointing at Jaemin and Jeno in what he probably thinks is just an innocent joke, if Jaemin wasn't ready to blow his head open. "I thought you were going to win, and then-- wow!" He says. "You just-- fell over!"

"Shut up, Yangyang." Jaemin seethes, hissing at the pain in his ankle.

Jeno intrudes, worried this is going to tarnish Jaemin's self-worth. "I think we did a great job--"

"My fucking ankle is bleeding, Jeno." He says. There's a lull that halts the conversation-- seconds that pass where it's like the only thing Jeno knew how to do was stare hazily at him, until Jaemin makes the brave decision to look down, eyes going just low enough until he sees what's going on and--

 _"Fuck."_ He has a fucking boner. And he's been leaking through his mesh shorts since probably two minutes ago. He blazes up, praying this was just a fever dream of some sort. It could have been. It'd make sense that he felt so hot and bothered and that he can't believe all of this is happening to him right now, and just to make matters worse, all of a sudden Jeno's holding him, arms looping around his waist-- _under his shirt--_ and if Jaemin wasn't frozen fucking stiff he would've moaned.

"Come with me." Jeno blurts out, blushing hard. Jaemin mouths out a shocked _what_ just seconds before Jeno hurriedly scoops him up in his arms, carries him upward and sprints for the tree by the side of the parking lot entrance with his fucking tail between his legs.

Jaemin wails as he gets laid down, along the wider side of the tree's trunk, because neither of them should be this giddy. He looks back at the park to see if anyone's kept their eyes on them, but it's just Yangyang and Renjun, looking at them, their prized bags of Churros in hand, like they're thinking, _fuck, they're having a moment._

It's hardly a moment Jaemin wants to be in. It's fucked up in all the wrong ways; he has a bleeding ankle he should probably be tending to, and a boner that needs just as much attention, and there's Jeno looking at him like he's both confused and sure that it makes Jaemin shrink down to hide his face between his folded knees. He holds Jaemin by the nook between his ears, holding his face up so that they're eye-to-eye, and suddenly he's closing his eyes, inching close and _kissing_ Jaemin, coaxing his mouth open with his tongue and--

Jaemin shoves him back and asks, wide-eyed. _"What the hell are you doing?"_

"What you want me to?" Jeno stares back. He looks hopeful. "Look, Jaem. You're wearing mesh shorts. Don't even explain."

He looks down, flustered. "So you were ogling-- my fucking boner."

"Yeah, I was." Jeno straightforwardly confesses, no telltale hints of even mild humiliation. "I mean. Who wasn't?"

"Oh, _fuck."_ Jaemin flails around and covers his face to scream, not only at the fact that he'd popped a hideous boner over a wild fantasy that may or may not involve his self-pledged rival of 6 years, but more so because everyone who's honest-to-God been in his life since his pre-pubescent years had to see his boner, more importantly, and then the rest of this disaster take place.

The tears in his eyes are quick to betray his anger. It's even more infuriating that Jeno acts like he knows what to do when he lays his hand by Jaemin's cheek and caresses him back to calmness. It makes Jaemin turn away more than anything. And when Jeno looks at him like a lost puppy, he finds it hard not to open his mouth and offer a debatable explanation.

"You're ruining my life." He confrontingly starts, his eyes darting towards Jeno. "You're ruining everything."

"I'm not." Jeno confesses. "I mean. I hope I'm not."

"You _hope?"_ Jaemin sneers. "What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know. I just know that I _really_ like you." He hisses under his breath, all the nervousness in his voice gushing out like a leak. "I have, for a long time-- and I wish you didn't hold that night at Renjun's party against me, and that you didn't think I was trying to crush your dreams or something. I'm accountable for that mindset, I think, and that's why I'm so sorry I'm so smart that you fear I'm a deadly threat to _Jaeminkind."_

Jaemin stares in frustration. Everything's so quick to add up and disappear into pieces in his head. "Why the hell are you apologizing?" He asks, genuinely shocked. He wishes it could sound apologetic enough.

"Because I'm hoping it's going to make you want to hate me less?" He says, but it comes out sounding like a question more than an answer. "I know as much. Renjun's been forcing me to do this whole thing for the picnic, which I just did because he threatened to out me to you himself, which he probably won't do--"

"--He _might--"_

"--But I just can't help but feel like it's sabotage. I never want you to feel cornered to make a decision, or unsure about anything, or about me--" He lets out a shaky huff when nothing in his head seems to piece together, then he squeezes Jaemin's hand, begs, "Don't hate me. I don't want you to hate me. That's _it,_ Jaemin. That's all I want."

Jaemin's shoulders fall out of stunted pity. His heart isn't entirely out of reach now. It's all but wishing it could make it easier for Jeno so they can get this over with. He starts an anxious question, lets it float through their bubble, "What makes you think that? That I would?"

"Because we didn't kiss. We never-- _that night."_ Jeno says, his eyebrows furrowing nervously. "But then I fucked you and I bit you all over and I came in your mouth. I figured you thought I was fucked up for acting like. Like I didn't care about you, when-- all I cared about was you."

"Wow." It takes Jaemin a full second before recognition dawns on him-- and all of a sudden he's laughing. "I guess now I know you're dumber than me, by some aspect."

Jeno blinks up at him, his whole body flinching still. "What?"

Jaemin shrugs. "The only reason I hate you is because you're a douchebag, and you _are_ trying to crush my dreams, fucker-- and, I kid you not--" he groans in all sincerity. "You don't see. You don't have to be such an _asshole_ about everything-- but then I don't get how you manage to be so shitty _and_ hot, still, like. You're ruining my life and at the same time all I could think is, _keep doing that, please. It's so sexy."_

"Oh," Jeno says, worried. He looks like he is. 

"It used to scare the shit out of me." He admits. "Up until like ten minutes ago. When you called me a good boy. When you carried me up. And when you kissed me. Especially then. It was when I thought, _what the fuck are we so afraid of?"_

"Are you for real?" Jeno lets out a sort of nervous guffaw, leans close again, as if to tacitly ask for a consolation kiss. Their noses bump together softly, awkwardly, and then Jeno whispers to him, like a secret. "I'm sorry, really."

Jaemin smiles against Jeno's cheek, his arms already wrapping around his neck. "So make it up to me," he says, squeakier and more awkward than he intended.

"Yeah," Jeno nods in awe and disbelief, turning his head to land a small peck on Jaemin's forehead and stare him in the eyes. "I will."

"Oh, yeah?" He giggles slowly, giddy like a kid. "How?"

Jeno turns around, looks cautiously from left to right, and graciously leans close to whisper against Jaemin's ear with a nervous chuckle. His hands stay wrapped around Jaemin's, and for the longest time they both forget how to breathe-- only floating back to reality when Jaemin nods and says "yes," repeatedly, like it's the only thing that makes sense, that isn't wiggled down to fit.

  
The answer Jaemin gets from Jeno wasn't exactly an _I love you_ as much as it was a clumsy invitation to fuck at the backseat of Jeno's car and get donuts while they bask in the afterglow. It was thoroughly inappropriate for the class picnic, but, from the smile on Jaemin's face that inevitably ensued, fingers twining along fingers, and the litters of kisses that came-- all the small things that feel and taste like they've always been something more-- he knew it sounded just about right.

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO YALL IT'S DENI, MS. NINTHDREAMIE'S BIRTHDAY!! greet this angel please, and more importantly read her fics or risk losing 10 years in your life span
> 
> also a P.S. for deni i know i promised fullblown smut but im an obvious wuss and i couldnt write past blatant implications without sputtering like a 7-year old who's heard about sex the first time through the live chat in minecraft... i tried to make the best out of what i could work with, and i hope you liked it!!!
> 
> leave kudos and feedback, pretty please!!! and find me @RETROJENS on twt and my (do i even link it at this point) dead cc @R3TR0S
> 
> I love u all


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